


The Notepad

by lyricalarrow



Category: Oliver and Felicity - Fandom, olicity - Fandom
Genre: Established Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak, F/M, Married Oliver Queen//Felicity Smoak, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-06
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-25 05:14:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4948036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyricalarrow/pseuds/lyricalarrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This one is sort of based on The Notebook, from Oliver’s POV once they’re old. The end is the sweetest. Grammatical errors are mine. I did not proofread as carefully as I should have. No smut here, just sweet stuff. He only has months to live, based on Harrison Wells' revelation that he lives to be 86 years old. Felicity has been diagnosed with Alzheimer's. He just wants her back, if only for a few moments.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own 'Arrow' or any of its characters. All rights go to Warner Bros. Entertainment, DC Comics and The CW. Made for entertainment and non-profit.  
> Disclaimer: I do not own 'The Notebook' or any of its characters. No copyright infringement intended. I do not own anything but my works.  
> Editing mistakes are my own.

_**Sometime in the future, 2070** _

The old man slowly shuffled his way down the corridor of the assisted living facility. He waited in line for his morning pills, had an apple for breakfast, made small talk with the other residents, then made a beeline towards her room. He hasn’t seen her since yesterday, and he misses her.

Please, God. Please let her have a good day.

He could tell that she’s being fussy with the nurse when he nears her room.

She doesn’t want to eat. She doesn’t want to take a walk. She doesn’t want to talk about it. She just wants to be left alone. She still knows how to operate a tablet for crying out loud. She’s _not_ an idiot.

There stands the love of his life, dressed in a pink cardigan sweater and a loose grey skirt that doesn’t remotely fit her tiny frame. She’s wearing panda flats, similar to the ones she wore all those years ago when they first met, yet more suitable for an elderly woman. She’s still kept her fashionable edge, no matter what, and he’s loved her all the more for it. He enters the room with a light tap on the door.

“She’s being pretty stubborn this morning, Mr. Ollie,” the nurse whispered to him with a knowing, understanding tone. “May I try anyway?” The nurse sweetly nodded at him, “Of course, Mr. Ollie. If anyone can reach her, it’s you.” With that sentiment, the nurse winked at Felicity, and exited the room. It was just the two of them.

“Felicity Smoak? Hi, I’m Oliver Queen.”

“That’s not my name,” she retorted sharply. “I mean, my name is Felicity, but you messed it up just a little bit. I mean, that’s not my actual name. Why are you here? I’m so sorry. Who are you? How rude. Whatever it is that you want, I’m sure it wasn’t so you could come down here, and listen to a nutty old woman like me babble, which will end in 3, 2, 1. What I meant to say, is that my name is Felicity Queen. How funny is that? You and I have the same last name.“

She turned around, facing the window, clearly embarrassed by her ramblings. God, she was still so adorable. She remembered her name. That was a good sign. A _great_ sign, in fact. Please, God. Please.

Oliver looked down at the floor to regain his composure, and smiled, wrinkles creasing around his forever sparkling blue eyes. Not the wrinkles from old age, but the good kind, the type that had formed from over 55 years of laughter, partnership, and true love. The smile reserved only for her, the smile that still flushed his cheeks until it reached his ears, and ran down his neck.

She slowly turned from the window, nervously pushing her glasses up her nose, and smoothing her now soft grey, almost white ponytail. He had seen her do this countless times over the years, especially in the early days, when she still wasn’t sure of him.

Those days when he would come to her with ridiculous excuses, and lies, yet she would help him anyway. Oh, God. Why didn’t he love her sooner?

She didn’t remember their life together, yet she still had the same reaction to him almost every time he entered her room. It never ceased to both elate him, and break his heart at the same time.

As he looked up at her, steel blue eyes met sky blue eyes, then suddenly, she smiled back at him. It was the first time he had seen that smile in weeks.

****

They’d had some really bad days recently. So bad, that Ava and Tommy had begged him to come home, to just let her go. He would never, ever let her go. Deep down, they knew that. She was his universe. They just missed their Dad.

Yes, they had awful days, some more heart-wrenching than others. Some days she would scream for the orderlies to get the crazy man away from her. Why was this stranger in her room? Those days he would just go back to his room, and break down.

The nurses would bring him coffee, just like she used to, after she vowed not to ever again. He had once told the nurses that particular story, about Felicity “violently” breaking the coffee maker after he made her his executive assistant without her consent.

They had belly laughed at Felicity’s moxie, yet still chastised him for being so obtuse in his youth. He had shown the staff pictures of them when they were in their prime, he could tell they were genuinely impressed with what a striking couple they made back in the day.

The staff doted on him, gave him special privileges to see her as much as they could. After all, he still had that smoldering charm that worked in his favor. However, when Mr. Ollie was hurting like he did some nights, they didn’t know what else to do.

They would stroke his back, assure him that she would be better tomorrow, and bring him coffee. He always appreciated the coffee, and he was sincerely grateful for their generosity and concern.

****

Then there were days like today, when she flashed that smile. The smile that would make his heart sing until the day he died. He didn’t have much time left, all he wanted was a few more smiles, a few more touches, a few more glances. He just wanted her. All he had ever wanted was her. He was going to try again. And again. And again.

“I live just down the hallway, and I was wondering if you’d like for me to read you a story? I have a really good one to tell. I think you’ll like it.” He sighed, and held his breath, awaiting her response. Please, God, please.

“Yes, Mr. Queen. I would love to hear your story. So long as it doesn’t involve kangaroos. Kangaroos really, really creep me out.” She scrunched her nose, and pouted her lips at the thought.

“By the way, if you don’t mind me saying so, your lips look like little pillow mountains. If that’s a thing, I mean. I bet you were really handsome when you were young.” She bit her lower lip, and it took every ounce of patience he had not to hug her, kiss her, beg her to remember him. Remember them. Please remember me.

His Felicity was still in there, and he was going to remind her. He took in another deep breath, then released it slowly.

“I have photo albums. I could show you. If you’d like. They do go along with the story.”

“A good story…and pictures? Do proceed, Mr. Queen. Do you have a note pad? As much as I love my tablet, I like to take notes by hand. And a red pen? Do you have a red pen? I prefer red. Oh, God. I’m babbling again. I don’t know why. It’s always been red. It was red.” Her faced relaxed, as if that fleeting memory from their first date had come back to her, if just for a moment.

“It was red,” she whispered.

Today was going to be a good day.

****

A long time ago, one beautiful June evening, amongst friends and family, they declared their sacred vows. It was the happiest night of his life. He wrapped her in his arms as they danced their first dance as Mr. & Mrs. Oliver Queen. They swayed slowly, they kissed beneath the stars, evaporating in the glowing candlelight, as the fireflies flickered in the forest behind them.

The clinking of champagne glasses, the sweet taste of wedding cake on their lips, and delightful laughter from loved ones filled the air. He didn’t want to blink that night, because in the back of his mind, it couldn’t be real.

He didn’t deserve her, did he? She told him that he did. She was an angel, his guardian angel, the light of his life. He would love her forever. It was all a beautiful whirlwind after that.

****

Long gone were the days of short skirts, shimmering cocktail dresses, and sky high heels that had always been his undoing.

Long gone were the tailored suits, tuxedos with suspenders, and form fitting henleys that had always been her undoing.

Long gone were the steamy nights of young lovers, firm bodies writhing together with unbridled moans of pleasure, a mass of tangled limbs, her long blonde hair cascading over his stubbled, chiseled face, locked in never ending kisses.

Long gone were the midnight dashes to the store to satisfy Felicity’s pregnancy cravings: mint chip ice cream, and dill pickle flavored potato chips. He still shuddered over that combination.

Long gone were the nights of chasing toddlers around the house until they were too exhausted to do anything but collapse into each others arms fully clothed, covered in peanut butter and finger paint.

Long gone were the days of swimming lessons, science projects, baseball games, and graduations.

****

Long ago, he watched their son marry his soulmate. Laurel Lance’s gorgeous, dazzling daughter, of all people. What a small, wonderful world. After the ceremony, Tommy told his dad that all he wanted was to make his new bride, Dinah, happy. “As happy as you’ve made Mom."

Oliver hugged his son tighter than he ever had, told him how proud he was. Then he went in the coat closet, and cried like a baby. He never told Felicity. It was one of the few things he ever kept from her.

****

Long ago, he gave their daughter away to the man of her dreams. Ava’s azure eyes danced with excitement and beauty, an exact replica of her mother’s eyes. She was perfect from the day she was born. He didn’t want to give her away, she was his, but he knew he had to.

He wanted to keep her safely snuggled in his arms, same as the day she came home crying after pre-school because some mean boy had pushed her on the playground, calling her a four-eyed geek. "Oh, honey,” he whispered against her sweet smelling hair, “he’s only saying that because he likes you."

Oliver chuckled as he remembered that day, because that "mean boy” really did “like” their precious Ava. In fact he loved her like the moon and the sun and the stars combined. One Mr. John Andrew Diggle was about to make one Miss Ava Dearden Queen his wife.

****

Long gone were the days of enjoying an early retirement; they had conquered the world together, after all. As CEOs, a mayor, philanthropists. Together with friends, they saved the city. They were heroes, they were legends, and they had earned their happiness.  
They were finally content with simple pleasures such as long evening walks, curling under a blanket with a glass of wine as she read him Shakespeare, or reminiscing about their colorful past in front of a crackling fireplace.

“Felicity, you’re remarkable."

"Thank you for remarking on it.”

****

Long, long, long, gone were the nights of green leather, blonde ponytails, computer monitors, abs, biceps, salmon ladders, Glocks, blood, tears, sweat, arrows, and sacrifice.

Yet love remained. He had found her love there. He didn’t regret a single moment. Neither did she.

****

Not so long ago, the doctor delivered a sobering blow to Oliver Queen.

He then relayed the prognosis to their children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, his sister, their best friends, nieces, and nephews.

They were all gathered in a room together, full of concern, worry, hope, and love.

Felicity had been forgetting things lately. Too many things. Felicity Megan Smoak. Felicity Smoak Queen. One of the most gifted, beautiful minds in the world, was losing hers.


	2. Giving Ava Away - Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This work is sort of based on The Notebook, from Oliver’s POV once they’re old. Grammatical errors are mine. No smut here, just sweet stuff. The chapters will be in real time for them (in the future for us, the reader) as far as Oliver and Felicity's time at the assisted living facility, the "stories" he tells her about their life will not be in any set chronological order. 
> 
> Oliver Queen only has months to live, based on Harrison Wells' revelation that he lives to be 86 years old. Felicity has been diagnosed with Alzheimer's. He just wants her back, if only for a few moments.  
> ****  
> Oliver tells Felicity the story of when his five year old daughter couldn't grasp the concept of 'giving the bride away,' after his wife, who babbles a lot, disastrously bungles her explanation. Little Ava is sad that her Daddy wants to "give her away" when she grows up. Of course, Daddy saves the day.

_**October 18, 2025** _

Oliver could hear his wife muttering a barrage of expletives under her breath, as she feverishly stomped down the hallway towards the keeping room adjacent to their kitchen. Hurricane Felicity was about to blow through in 3...2...1... He was stretched out on the sectional sofa, watching the Blue Jays game. Josh Donaldson had just slammed another walk-off home run, so for the moment, he was inclined to ignore her. He knew the inevitable was coming though.

"Oliver!"

"Hmm?"

"Clean up. Aisle Ava."

"What?" he lazily questioned, eyes still glued to the baseball game.

"You need to go talk to _your_ daughter right now! We have a situation!" Felicity shouted in her loud voice.

Five year old Ava Queen was a walking, talking litany of 'situations.' She had inherited not only her mother's genius intellect and razor-sharp wit, but her father's broodiness and wild spirit, resulting in one cute, smart, sassy little trouble maker.

*****

Take for example, this past summer when Ava had read about something called "glitter bombs" on the internet, and decided to mail Mommy one to her office as a surprise. The spring-loaded canister exploded all over Felicity's desk at Queen, Inc. showering several contracts worth millions of dollars in purple and silver glitter. It took Felicity almost two hours to clean up the mess.

When Oliver and Felicity questioned Ava as to her reasoning behind why she would do such a thing, she simply shrugged her little shoulders, before replying sweetly, "I just wanted to make Mommy's work pretty like she is."

Her sweet cherub face tilted to the side, with the same pretty pink pout that she had also inherited from her mother. Oliver had to turn around and walk out of the room, hand clamped over his mouth so his wife wouldn't see the Cheshire Cat grin plastered all over his face. He certainly didn't want to feel Felicity's wrath for laughing out loud while she administered Ava's punishment.

However, as he rounded the corner of the hallway leading into their master suite, he heard Felicity closing in behind him, giggling like a school girl. They collapsed on the bed, and laughed into the pillows until they were both crying. "What are we going to do with this child?" Felicity beamed, wiping tears from her eyes. "Nothing," Oliver replied, cupping her face in his hands as he leaned in to kiss her gently on the lips. "She's perfect. Just like her mother." Needless to say, Ava escaped time out for that particular 'situation.'

*****

Then, just last month, Uncle Barry had demonstrated to Ava, and his daughter Nora, how to make "elephant toothpaste" using just dish detergent, hydrogen peroxide, yeast, and food coloring. Ava was in complete fascination as the seemingly never ending foam spewed out of the cylinder. Uncle Barry had told her that elephant toothpaste was completely safe for kids to make, and that all of the ingredients could be found in their kitchen. "Pretty cool, huh?" Uncle Barry boasted. "So cool," Ava whispered, her big blue eyes dancing in awe behind her tiny safety glasses. 

About a week later, Oliver had taken their eight year old son, Tommy, to the local batting cages to work on his swing, leaving Felicity and Ava alone for a few hours. Felicity was in her home office on a conference call with some new international investors while Ava was on the couch watching cartoons. Well, she was _supposed_ to be on the couch watching cartoons, as per her mother's very firm instruction. However, reruns of "Bill Nye the Science Guy" gave Ava another idea entirely. Surely Mommy wouldn't mind...

"Oh my god," Oliver and Tommy uttered in unison as they entered the kitchen through the side door that lead from the garage. "Oh my god, what?" Felicity asked as she entered the kitchen from the breakfast nook, her eyes plastered to the latest profit and loss statement from Queen Inc.'s Applied Sciences Division. "Felicity, stop!" Oliver warned. It was too late though. Felicity's feet shot out from under her as her bare feet slid through the sea of blue foam covering the kitchen floor. She landed squarely on her rear end as some very important sheets of paper flew through the air landing in the sticky blue nightmare.

There were no less than twenty vases, bottles, and various containers littering the middle of the kitchen floor, overflowing with gigantic blue foam. "What in the he-- Ava Dearden Queen, you get in here right this instant, young lady!" Felicity shouted in her loud voice. Silence. "Ava..." Felicity called for her again. More silence. "Ava, you listen to your mother. Kitchen. _Now_." The sound of her father's voice prompted a rustling sound from inside the cabinets underneath the kitchen sink. The cabinet doors opened from the inside, as Ava's blonde head popped out, face tilted to the side, her signature pink pout already in place. "Yes, Mommy?"

"Nuh-uh. Not gonna work this time. Who do you think invented that pout anyhow? Ava, what in the world is this stuff?" 

"It's elephant toothpaste, Mommy. Uncle Barry said it was okay to make it at home. Look, I'm even wearing my safety glasses."

Felicity turned to Oliver, an incredulous, bewildered look all over her face as she still sat flat on her now soaking wet butt, with her mouth hanging open, glasses askew on the tip of her nose. "Oliver, get Barry Allen on the phone, and tell him he'd _better_ start running."

***** 

With a crooked grin on his face, Oliver's mind snapped back to the current 'situation' at hand. Alright, this was obviously serious. Well, Felicity/Ava style serious. Oliver sighed as he hit the pause button on the game, and turned to face his wife. Felicity's cheeks were positively flushed crimson, her sky blue eyes full of frustration and tension. She was dressed in tight black yoga pants and a red long-sleeved Henley. Her hair was pulled back in two loose pigtails, each adorned with a long red ribbon. God, she was so adorably sexy when she was freaking out.

"What did she do this time?" Oliver inquired nonchalantly.

"It's not one of _those_ situations, it's the other kind," she huffed.

"What did _you_ do this time?" he smirked.

"You jackass. Why do you always assume that it's  _my_ fault?" she responded with visible annoyance, hands on her hips, tapping her bare foot against the hardwood floor as she blew an errant strand of hair out of her face. Oliver raised a knowing eyebrow in her direction.

"Okay. It's my fault. Totally my fracking fault, and I need you to fix it. I am begging you."

"Take a deep breath, calm down, and tell me what happened. Then I'll go  _fix_ it for you, baby. You can save the  _begging_  for later." 

" _Whatever._ Oliver, I was just trying to explain some grown up stuff to her, and you know me, I started babbling. When I tried to back peddle my way out of it, I made it worse. Just go talk to her. Please. I think I've ruined her for life."

"Hon, pour yourself a cup of coffee, and go relax on the deck for a little while. Whatever it is, I've got your back."

"Be careful, Oliver. She takes everything so literally."

"She's five, Felicity. How else is she supposed to take things?" Oliver chuckled, as he launched himself from the sofa, and padded off towards his daughter's room. 

*****

"Motherfu--" Oliver caught himself before he said it. A sharp, searing pain shot through the bottom of his bare foot as he made the turn down the hallway towards Ava's room. Then he saw it, the tiny culprit. A lone green LEGO block lying in the middle of the hallway. Oliver had survived five years of misery, isolation, torture, and then some, his body bore the scars to prove it. He swore, however, that nothing on earth hurt more than stepping on one of those tiny plastic pieces of demon spawn. Satan forged LEGOS in the fiery pits of hell, Oliver was certain of it. Note to self: another LEGO lecture for Tommy when he gets home from the sleepover at his friend Andy's house.

*****

Oliver leaned in the doorway of Ava's room, to assess the situation before entering. His ability for stealth movement had never left him, and she had no idea that he was standing there, watching her. It was the same approach he had taken with her mother, all the way back to the first few encounters they had in her old office at Queen Consolidated. He was enraptured by Felicity Smoak, from the very beginning. He was enchanted by this little girl sitting in front of him from the moment he first looked into her eyes.

Based on Felicity's frantic ramblings, he had expected to find Ava in the middle of a crying fit, but she wasn't. Not at all. His sweet, feisty Ava was sitting at her tea party table, surrounded by Elsas, Elmos, Nemos, and other countless stuffed and/or plastic propped things. Plus her favorite toy, a gigantic pink Teddy bear that her Aunt Thea had won for her at an archery game at the carnival last year. She was staring out the window, tapping the fingers of her right hand against the table with an almost pensive look on her face. The "I can get away with murder" pout was replaced with an actual pout.

Aside from her naturally blonde hair, Ava Queen was a tiny carbon copy of her mother in almost every way, from her quirky personality to her flair for the dramatic to her penchant for mint chip ice cream. He smiled when he noticed that Ava was dressed almost identical to her mother: black leggings, a red pullover, and pigtails with matching red ribbons. Felicity loved to play dress up with her mini-me.

Oliver placed a soft knock on the bedroom door to get her attention. Ava spun her head around, looked at her father with the saddest puppy eyes ever, and turned back around facing the window.

"Ava, baby, is there something you want to talk with Daddy about?"

"No. I mean no, sir," she sniffled. 

"Ava, what is going on with you?"

"Noth--"

"And don't say nothing."

"I'm not growing up. EVER," she blurted out.

"I don't really think you have a choice, honey."

"Well, I do, and I'm not!"

"You have to grow up, to do big girl things like go to college, and even get married some day like Mommy and Daddy."

"No!"

"Why not?"

"Because, because...Mommy said that when I grow up, and get married that you're gonna give me away! Why are you giving me away? Why aren't you going to want me anymore, Daddy? Is it because I'm a bad girl sometimes?" 

With that stunning revelation, Oliver placed his forehead in the palm of his hand, and groaned. Oh, boy. Wow. Thanks a lot, Felicity Queen. Thanks for the warning. As Oliver took a second to weather the 'situation' facing him, Ava finally turned on the waterworks full force, launching into his arms, promising him that she would be a good girl from now on. Begging him to not give her away. Oliver locked her tightly against his chest, stroking Ava's golden hair as her little body racked sob after sob into his neck, soaking his t-shirt.

"Ava, you are my whole world, I would never, ever give you away. Do you have any idea how much I love you?" 

"But, Mommy said..."

"It's just a saying, sweet pea. All it means is that when you get married some day, I am simply giving you my blessing to start your new big girl life. I will always be your Daddy, and I will always be here for you. Forever and ever. I'm not going anywhere."

"Sort of like when Tommy graduated from the little kids school to the bigger kids school?" she managed to choke out.

Oliver laughed softly into her sweet-smelling hair. Whatever made sense to her worked for him. "Yeah, sort of. Do you understand now?"

"Yes, sir. I think so. Why can't I just marry you though? Then you'd be giving me away right back to _you_?"

 "What about Mommy though?"

"She can marry Tommy!" 

"Okay, but I have a feeling you'll change your mind about all of this some day, little miss sunshine."

Oliver brushed the last remnants of tears from her eyes with his thumbs, replacing them with tiny butterfly kisses all over her rosy, perfect cheeks. Ava was practically squealing with joy now.

"Your whiskers tickle, Daddy!"

"Mommy loves my whiskers."

"Mommy loves everything about you."

"I love everything about Mommy too."

"Oh, no you don't, Daddy!" she challenged.

"So, what _don't_ I like about Mommy? Enlighten me."

Ava pinched her nose, wrinkled her brow, and giggled, "Her stinky cooking."

Oliver laughed as he pressed one more kiss to her cheek before placing her back in her chair. "You've got me there, kiddo. Are we good?"  

"Yes, Daddy. All better. Will you and Mommy play tea party with me?"

"We wouldn't miss it for all the tea in China. I'll go get Mommy," he winked back at his girl. Well, one of his girls.

*****

"Is she alright?" Felicity anxiously inquired as Oliver made his way through the French doors out onto the deck. She was furiously tapping the fingers of her right hand against the arm of the Adirondack chair she was sitting in. Like mother, like daughter.

"She's perfectly fine, but you could've at least forewarned me that our daughter thought I was going to morph into the damn Antichrist when she grows up."

"Sorry," Felicity tilted her head to the side, pushing her pink lips into that all familiar pout that she knew he simply couldn't resist. "I know. I know. Am I in trouble, Mr. Queen?" 

"So much trouble, Mrs. Queen. I think I've devised a way for you to get out of said trouble though. One that involves a lot of _begging_. But first, our presence has been requested at a tea party."

"It's a date, Mr. Queen. Two dates, actually," she purred against his neck.

*****

The old man shuffled down the hall, a leather-bound journal, notepad, and red pen in hand.

"How is my girl this morning, Nurse Beth?"

The young nurse flashed him a beaming smile. "Mrs. Queen's in a really good mood today, Mr. Ollie. I think she'll be receptive to you. She doesn't remember any names today though, if that helps." 

"Thanks, Beth. As much as it hurts, it does help. It actually makes it easier for me to tell Felicity a story if I don't have to change our names. Where is she?"

"On the main veranda, in one of the rocking chairs," the nurse winked at him, giving him a gentle squeeze on the shoulder, before she strolled away to continue her rounds.

*****

Oliver Queen made his way to the main veranda. He leaned against the doorway, admiring her from afar, like he had done so many times over the years. She was sitting quietly in a rocking chair, gazing out over the lake, with an almost pensive look on her face. The fingers of her right hand slowly tapping against the arm of the rocking chair. Oliver took in a deep breath as he made his way to her, to his Felicity.

"Good morning," he smiled at her warmly. "May I sit here?"

"Of course. Isn't it beautiful?" she asked him, looking at the sunlight as it skated across the water in a haphazard routine.

"The most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he answered, but he wasn't looking at the lake.

"What do you have there?" she inquired, looking at the journal Oliver held in his withered hands.

"The nurses told me that you like stories, so I thought I would read you a pretty cute one about my daughter when she was a little girl, if you'd like to hear it."

"I would love to hear it. What is her name?"

"Ava. Her name is Ava."

"That is a lovely name. Did you know that Ava means 'breath of life'?"

"I do know that. My wife told me that when we chose her name."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own 'Arrow' or any of its characters. All rights go to Warner Bros. Entertainment, DC Comics and The CW. Made for entertainment and non-profit.  
> Disclaimer: I do not own 'The Notebook' or any of its characters. No copyright infringement intended. I do not own anything but my works.  
> Editing mistakes are my own.


End file.
